


7. I've Got You

by Knitwritezombie (Missa_G)



Series: Care and Feeding 'Verse [8]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Dreams, Gen, Nightmares, clone piles, clones comforting clones, cody has opinions on boil's mustache
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26884066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missa_G/pseuds/Knitwritezombie
Summary: Alt Prompt: NightmaresCody has a nightmare
Series: Care and Feeding 'Verse [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956823
Kudos: 86
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	7. I've Got You

They were dead. All of them. Rex. Fox. Ponds. Gray. Honeycutt. Waxer. Radar. Wooley. Cody stepped over the bodies that littered the ground, helmetless, so he could see all of their identical faces, modified in as many different ways as they could think of. Kix’s tattoo on the side of his head. Five’s on his temple. Boil’s horrid mustache that he was so kriffing proud of.

A faceless Jedi stood in the middle of the sprawl of bodies, blue lightsaber ignited and held ready, brown robe drifting in the breeze that carried the stench of death and decay. 

“You’ve outlived your usefulness, CC-2224,” the Jedi said, voice flat, bringing his ‘saber up to attack position. 

The faceless Jedi shifted and blurred, and it took on Kenobi’s face, his familiar opening battle stance. 

Cody froze in place. He watched, helpless to do anything, as his General attacked, saber aimed at his chest. 

He jolted awake with a shout, panting as he sat bolt upright in his bunk. His thin scratchy blanket and rough sheet pooled around his waist as he fought to get his breathing back under control. “Kriffing hell,” he muttered, scrubbing his hands over his sweaty face. 

Cody was no stranger to nightmares; they all had them. After particularly rough battles, or when they’d seen higher losses than normal, the brothers would often bunk down together as they had as cadets, pulling mattresses and blankets from bunks and turning to the only comfort they’d had - each other.

But this one had come out of nowhere, and Cody bunked alone, a privilege of rank that he took advantage of, along with his own ‘fresher.

Cody knew he wouldn’t get back to sleep, so, after groaning at the chrono that showed he’d only been asleep for a couple of hours, he took a quick sonic shower and dressed in his blacks. He already felt oddly weighed down, and it wasn’t like he needed the armor in the relative security of The Negotiator. For a moment he had the brief thought of wrapping his blanket around himself like one of Kenobi’s cloaks, then rolled his eyes at his own foolishness and made for the mess.

As he settled with a cup of caff and a datapad in the back corner of the room, he couldn’t quite shake the details of the nightmare. He pulled up a holonovel, but found he couldn’t concentrate on what he was reading; his mind kept drifting back to the scene of Kenobi coming at him, blade ready to strike.

After he’d read the same paragraph five times and retained none of it, he gave up. The image kept replaying in his head, him alone in a field of his brothers’ corpses, being attacked by the one man he knew saw them all as indispensable, who saw them all as individuals and encouraged them to explore that individuality. Cody knew that the General was working with Senators Amidala and Organa to figure out a way to secure the vod’e Republic citizenship when the war was over, and he’d been very vocal in his opposition to the Kaminoan practice of ‘reconditioning’ clones for bad behavior or anything else they felt was a weakness in their product. If his unconscious self was trying to tell him something, it didn’t reconcile with what Cody knew about Kenobi or the Jedi in general. 

Cody made his way toward the barracks where Waxer and Boil’s platoons bunked. He knew that, more often than not, there was some kind of ‘clone pile’ happening, and those two lieutenants would never turn him away. Even if he couldn’t get back to sleep, Cody hoped the presence of other vod’e would at least let him relax.

And maybe stop his brain from spinning up images of all of his brothers dead at the hands of the General. 

True enough, when he arrived at the barracks, Waxer and Boil were curled up with a couple of their men on a pallet on the floor. Boil stirred as Cody entered, quickly, trying not to let the light from the corridor wake too many of them. 

“C’mdr?” Boil blinked up at him from under Waxer’s arm, mostly asleep and his ridiculous mustache intact.

“Got room for one more?” Cody asked quietly, knowing the answer as he began to kick off his boots.

“Di’kut al’verde,” Waxer muttered, apparently not as asleep as he appeared. 

They shifted, the others with them not stirring, confident in their ability to rest with the lieutenants at their back. Waxer and Boil made a space between them and Cody wriggled in graceless but grateful. He was soon cocooned in warmth and surrounded by the soft sounds of breathing and the faint heartbeat of Boil under his ear. 

Cody didn’t sleep, but his mind quit replaying the scene from his nightmare, and he was able to doze, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a:
> 
> di'kut al'verde: idiot commander (dumbass)


End file.
